Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve)

by Claire, Ava

  My face burned red as Rachel looked right at Jacob. The way she stared at him, the way he began to fidget in his seat; something more happened between the two of them.

  And no one knew.

  I went rigid, remembering the horror at seeing my pictures earlier that morning and Jacob's shrugs like it just came with the territory. If they were together, the same pictures had to have been taken of her. Incriminating photos. Private moments. But there had never been a set of grainy photos of Jacob and Rachel.

  She locked eyes with me and gave me a smile that was a punch to the stomach. The pieces were falling together and the picture they painted was like a glass of water to the face. She wanted to do more than just embarrass me by getting the paparazzi to snap pictures of me. She was testing Jacob—and he failed.

  He reached for me, picking up on our silent exchange. "Leila..."

  I didn't dare look at him. Not when he said my name in the same low, pleading voice that he'd whispered last night when he shared my bed. I imagined him whispering another name. Her name.

  I rose to my feet as the conference ended, ignoring Jacob as I booked it to the stage. The press manager was rounding up the actors for a few publicity shots. I knew my face had to be as red tomato. It was flush in preparation for our exchange, making me tremble so hard that walking was hard. Talking was impossible.

  The press manager gave me a hurried smile. "Miss Montgomery! Rachel will be all yours in just a second."

  Rachel's emerald eyes glittered. "Nonsense, Britta. Can't you tell Leila is just bursting with something to tell me?" She maneuvered around the frazzled woman, letting out a haughty chuckle. "Leila dear, you look winded. Perhaps you should sit down."

  When she reached for my arm I whipped it back. "Don't you dare touch me."

  The conversations around us hushed and I didn't need to turn to know reporters were inching toward the edge of the stage where we stood.

  Her smile curled up a few more inches but her jaw was tight. "Calm down, sweetheart."

  "You think I don't know what you did?" I growled, my heart thumping in my ears. "I know it was you."

  "We should have this conversation in the next room," she hissed through her teeth, the grin not faltering. "Unless you want to ruin any chance you'll ever have in this business."

  The last thing I wanted was to listen to anything she had to say, but I knew she was right. As much as I wanted to deck her, a brawl with the celebrity client I was tasked with keeping away from scandal had bad idea written all over it.

  She made a grand gesture. "After you."

  Fuming, I preceded her, pushing aside the dark curtains that hid the double doors leading to the neighboring conference room. The room was empty except for a maid with a duster on a ladder, polishing the glittering chandelier. As soon as she saw me, she began to dismount.

  “Mi perdoni, signorina.” She gestured at the door. “I leave.”

  My face softened and I plucked a phrase from my Italian dictionary read the day before. "Va bene."

  The woman immediately relaxed. She'd probably had to deal with people's attitudes and diva-like celebrity behavior all day. Or even worse, she was probably ignored altogether.

  I caught a whiff of Rachel's perfume before I saw her, the musky notes of Chanel invading my nostrils. She strutted right past me, her attention on the maid who stood frozen in place. The emotions on the poor woman’s face where a mixture of star struck awe and terror.

  "Missus Laraby," Her words were broken and unsure. "I w-was ju-"

  "Can't you do whatever it is you're doing some other time?" When the woman gave her a confused look, Rachel let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Do you even speak English?"

  I stepped forward, knowing that whether the woman could understand English or not, Rachel's body language needed no translation. "There's no need to be rude to her, Rachel. She was leaving."

  "Don't be ridiculous," Rachel scoffed. "It's her job to be invisible." I watched in shock as she turned back to the maid and broke the words down like she was talking to a child. "You...go...now."

  On the verge of the tears, the woman darted from the room, leaving us alone. Well not completely alone. It was me, Rachel, and her enormous ego.

  I shook my head with disgust. "Just when I don't think you can sink any lower, you outdo yourself."

  She clutched a hand to her heart. "Why thank you, Miss Montgomery."

  "It wasn't a compliment," I fired back.

  She turned to face me full on. "I beg to differ, sweetie. It implies that you've been thinking about me hard enough that somehow I'm the villain in this story. I, on the other hand, don't lose any sleep on glorified secretaries."

  In her form fitting dress, turquoise blue bleeding into slate gray, paired with emerald eyes and sparkling teeth, she reminded me of some reptile-like creature. A snake lying low in the weeds, waiting to strike. But I wasn’t her poor, defenseless prey.

  I knitted my eyebrows in faux confusion, twisting a corkscrew curl around my finger. "Huh. For someone that doesn't care about glorified secretaries, you sure went to a lot of trouble to try and embarrass lil’ old me."

  "Oh it was no trouble at all," she said flippantly. "Just a little call here, a little text there." She shrugged her shoulders. “You know how it goes.”

  "You should watch it, Rachel," I said feeling anger grip my throat. "Jealousy isn't a good color on you."

  "Jealous of what?" she said with a snort. "From the picture I saw, who would be jealous of an ass with so much cellulite it could be mistaken for the surface of the moon?"

  My nostrils flared and holding my peace became harder by the second. The only thing that kept me from exploding was the refusal to play into her hand. She wanted a reaction.

  "I just want to hear you say that it was you."

  "What was me?" she said innocently, her false lashes fluttering around her olive eyes.

  "The picture, Rachel."

  "What picture?" She gave me a look full of contempt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  "What picture indeed."

  Just the sound of the deep timbre of Jacob’s voice was enough to send shivers down my spine and almost make me forget the issue at hand. Almost.

  Rachel's face broke into the first genuine smile she'd worn all day. "Jacob!”

  Before they even got into it, I squeezed from between the two of them. It was hard enough to stomach Rachel, but Rachel making googly eyes and Jacob pretending like nothing went down between them? Nope.

  "I'll let you guys play whatever game it is you're playing," I said softly. "I think I've had all the fun I can take for one day." I tossed one last glare at Rachel. With her perfectly made up face and designer dress, she looked just like a mannequin in some department store. Beautiful on the outside—hollow underneath. "You're not worth it."

  "Those pictures going live on every gossip blog in the world no doubt will be. Priceless even," Rachel snapped behind me. "I knew brushing shoulders with a photographer or two would come in handy."

  My fingers hardened to ice around the door handle. I didn't move. Didn't breathe out of fear it would come off in my hand. I knew she’d done it, but hearing her say it so carelessly was a whole other animal.

  "Leila." Jacob was several feet away, but I felt his voice, soothing and firm, trying to keep me from losing it.

  My breath caught and I swallowed before I breathed deep and let it go, letting the flow of oxygen stop me from hulking out. "You are one classy broad, Rachel Laraby."

  "It must be nice up there on that high horse," Rachel goaded me. "You should have a great view of the curve of your ass."

  Breathe, Lay. Just breathe. I stepped out of the conference room and let the door thud closed behind me.

  The small corridor outside the conference room got foggy, tears of frustration clouding my view. I was in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, clad in a designer blouse and skirt, sharing my bed with one of the hottest, wealthiest men in America, but when m
y eyes closed I was back at PS 91. I was huddled in the bathroom, crying because I didn't feel as pretty as the other girls because of my wild, untamable curly hair. Because I wasn't as thin.

  I knew Rachel was bullying me, just like those girls in my class had. Relentless. Without regard of the long term effects.

  “You’re an adult now,” I whispered, trying to get a handle on my shaking body. But there was no denying that Rachel’s words and actions cut as deep as the insults those bitches threw at me all those years ago.

  "Are you okay?"

  The husky voice was beside me and I gave my head a shake, forcing a smile as I held my tears fast. "I'm fine."

  And I was. I would be. I just wanted her to admit it. To admit that even though she had more money than she could spend in several lifetimes, she was morally bankrupt.

  And then there was Jacob. I looked into his face, the face I'd stared at in dozens of magazines and blog posts. Into the eyes I used to think were as deep and endless as the ocean. Lost in the lips I never imagined would kiss my own. I'd done things with him, the most intimate thing one could do with another person. But he was still a mystery.

  "About the pictures," he began.

  "Let's don't and say we did." I took a step away from him but he put his arm on the wall, blocking me in. "I get it, Jacob. She's got megabucks and that's what it would take to squash pictures. An all star client. X-rated pictures would bring a lot of drama. A lot of headache." I tried to move but he still didn't budge. The proximity of him was muddying up all the reasons why I should walk away before I fell any harder. "Please just let me go, Jacob." I forced my eyes up and met his, biting my lip. "It's okay."

  "It's not okay," he said adamantly. He moved his hand from the wall, gripping my shoulders instead. It wasn't a thing of control, or trying to bend me to his will. I hadn't even been sure there was an 'us' until I looked at him in that moment. His expression, the fear that colored his eyes. Jacob was worried I would leave.

  He was asking me to stay.

  I managed a nod and he visibly relaxed. His sure hands ran up and down my arms, his touch piercing through to my skin beneath. Piercing my soul.

  "I'm..." The word trailed on forever and I knew another word was meant to be tacked onto the end. A word that I'm sure he'd never, ever said aloud.

  This was a big deal for him—but I wasn't letting him off that easy.

  "You're what?"

  He gave me that stubborn look, his jaw locked, eyes narrowing to obsidian slits.

  I waited.

  He hung his head then stood up tall. "I'm sorry for this morning. I didn't think about the implications of the pictures." He raked a hand through his hair. "I mean, in the past, some enjoyed the notoriety."

  I pursed my lips. "If you think I'm the kind of girl that would-"

  "I don't," he interrupted gently. He brought his hands to my cheek, his touch sending electric jolts through my body. "When I said you were different, I meant it." He leaned in close and there was no longer personal space. The smell of mint and power cocooned me. There was nothing but Jacob. There was nothing but this moment.

  He leaned in, hovering just above my lips and I breathed him in with a shudder before he pressed his mouth against mine. This was more than hunger, more than sex; I felt all the words that were too hard for a man like him to say. His touch screamed how sorry he was. How much he needed me. Guarding my heart would be impossible now. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkling with mischief, I knew he already had it.

  "I took care of the pictures," he said after a moment, straightening his tie. "Every single one."

  I leapt into his arms, me seeking out his lips and releasing everything. What happened between him and Rachel didn't matter. All the niggling questions about him and me were answered with one sentence.

  "Oh Jacob," I sighed in between smacks. "Thank you...thank you!"

  He pulled me closer and there was no mistaking the curve of his erection, thumping against me with need.

  Feeling wild, sexy, I snaked my hand between our bodies until I cupped him, stroking him nice and slow. "Perhaps I should thank you properly."

  "Ahem."

  My eyes widened, half expecting another enterprising photographer ready to snap a whole new set of pictures.

  But the woman that stood a few feet away wasn't holding a camera. Instead, she was holding a highly uncomfortable look.

  Jacob righted himself, turning to face her and the woman's discomfort immediately turned to fear. "Mr. Whitmore, Ms. Laraby told me I could find you here..."

  "It's fine, Mrs. Joy," he said, cutting her off with a chuckle. "You're in no trouble."

  I didn't know if her wide eyed shock was because of Jacob's lighthearted laugh or the fact he wasn't ripping her a new one. I gave her a sympathetic smile. Trust me, I get it. Jacob Whitmore is full of surprises.

  He turned a half circle. "Mrs. Joy, this is Miss Leila Montgomery. My new assistant."

  The woman stepped forward and gave my hand an efficient shake. "Pleasure."

  I bit back a chuckle at that. Pleasure was what we were up to when she stopped our fun. "Nice to meet you."

  "Mrs. Joy is one of the lead publicists on staff and will be taking over with Ms. Laraby."

  "Really?!" I heard the inappropriate glee in my voice and Mrs. Joy arched a brow. I cleared my throat. "I mean, that's very interesting news."

  Jacob's mouth was impassive but I saw the laughter twinkling in his eye as he stepped to the side and allowed me to pass. "I believe we have other things to attend to, Miss Montgomery."

  Tingles danced all over my naughty places. "Absolutely, Mr. Whitmore."

  I stepped out onto the main hall and once we got near the elevators, I heard the conference door slam open. Rachel was hollering something about termination.

  I didn't relax until the elevator doors slid closed and we put a few floors between us and her.

  "She can't really sever the relationship with Whitmore and Creighton, right?"

  He gave me an incredulous look. "Give me a little credit, Leila. Our contract with Rachel is ironclad."

  I had other questions about things she could do if she got mad enough, but all the thoughts in my head turned to goop when Jacob reached for my hand, interlacing his fingers with my mine.

  "I want to take you somewhere," he said, giving it a slight squeeze. "Somewhere special."

  ****

  I thought I was completely, irrevocably in love with the hustle of the city. Venice was filled with ancient buildings bursting with history. The colors were so vivid in spite of the crumbling facade. But the colors of the country, greens so bright that I could feel them wriggling with life, took my breath away. Jacob held my hand, quiet as I gushed on and on about how lovely it all was.

  It shouldn't have surprised me that Jacob's villa looked like something straight off the silver screen, but I still gawked at it from the backseat. It had an antique elegance, the house painted a cream with dark shutters, surrounded by century old trees.

  "It's beautiful." I said reverently, slowly unclicking my seatbelt. I knew it was the gazillionth time I'd said the word ‘beautiful’ in the past hour, but no other adjectives seemed to do it justice. "Just...beautiful." Jacob's firm hand slid up the hem of my skirt, stopping only when he hit the crotch of my panties. "I can think of more beautiful things."

  Heat washed all over me, simmering where the pads of his fingers pressed against my carnal slit. We could have been parked in front of a villa or parked outside of a Wal-Mart. No one could command my body like Jacob. No one could make the world pause until his next movement. No one.

  The driver’s door slammed shut and with a low, dangerous chuckle, Jacob pulled his hand from beneath my skirt. That chuckle lasted no more than a few seconds, but it spoke volumes. It said that he had something planned. Something erotic. Something delicious.

  My body trembled with anticipation but the driver did me a favor by not giving me one of those looks that said he knew exactly what
we were up to. I took a few steps forward onto the cobblestone driveway to let Jacob out and took in the estate. The front drive was a half circle that stretched from the wrought iron gate entrance and exit. The grassy area it enclosed was maintained but not precision cut; the blades reached my ankles and gave a softer, more whimsical feel. Flowers the color of the rainbow lined a marble fountain that spritzed cool, clear water.

  “Come,” Jacob said behind me. “Let me show you the house.”

  When we stepped inside the house, paintings and rustic tapestries created a vivid picture of elegance. I could almost envision some regal lord and lady vacationing here, entertaining their royal guests. He took me around to a sitting room, a library, and a kitchen. Except for a few modern appliances, it still had the historical elegance of days long past.

  “Oh my god,” I said, turning in a circle as I took it all in. “I feel like I’m in Downton Abbey.”

  He let out a deep laugh as he put his briefcase on a mahogany table. “I gave the staff the weekend off. I could call them back if you want the full experience.”

  I looped an arm through his. “Nah. I like the idea of having the place all to ourselves.”

  He tucked a bundle of curls behind my ear, gazing at me with an intensity that made my heart thunder in my chest. "You know what they say about great minds."

  It took all I had in me to not tell him to take me then and there, right on the oriental rug, flanked by furniture that cost enough to send me into cardiac arrest but the more I stared into his eyes, the more I saw a struggle.

  I loosened my hold on him, his apprehension contagious. "Is something wrong?"

  "No," he said unconvincingly, then gave me a sheepish look. "I...I am just concerned for you."

  "What?" I said, brow wrinkling in confusion. I blanched when I remembered our conversation, saying our contract made me feel like he saw me as a commodity. "If this is about the house...I think it's great. I love the house."